


Step by step

by Maewn



Series: Dragonhearted [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Children, Family, First Steps, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:33:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4568121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maewn/pseuds/Maewn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first step is the most important one is it not?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step by step

“Nandil, come here,” Aldariel calls, kneeling on the floor.

The little elf child is standing, for now. His mother kneels beside him, her red hair unbound and falling over her shoulders.

Nandil’s wide golden eyes blink at his father, mouth open. Thin blond hair covers the child’s pale scalp.

“Go to Papa,” his mother urges, gently turning her son and giving him a slight push.

“Papa?” Nandil questions.

“Yes, go to Papa,” his mother says, smiling. “He’s right over there.”

“Mama!” Nandil says, waving a chubby hand at her.

“I don’t think he wants to come over,” she says and her husband grins.

“I believe you are correct.” He sits down, crossing his legs, bright eyes watching his son.

Nandil takes a halting step towards him and Aldariel stills, completely focused on the tentative, tiny steps that his son is taking.

“Come on, Nandil,” he croons, “you can do it.” He has switched to the lyrical language of the High elves, without noticing it.

The child slips on the wooden floor halfway there and sits down with a soft thump. He blinks rapidly, tears pooling in his eyes.

“Get up, sweetling,” Nandil’s mother calls, “You can do it. Come on, get up.”

Nandil sniffs, but clambers unsteadily to his feet and manages the next two paces into his father’s arms.

Nandil promptly bursts into tears.

Aldariel rubs his back soothingly, murmuring low words of praise before turning to his wife. “I’m honestly surprised he didn’t start crying when he fell.”

“He’s stubborn,” his wife says, “like his father.”

“I am not stubborn,” Aldariel insists. “Just....ambitious.”

“Riiight,” his wife replies, nodding. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Nandil’s sobs quiet at last, small hands gripping the fabric of his father’s shirt.

A small snore echoes through the room.

“Apparently that tired him out,” Aldariel notes, cradling Nandil to his chest.

“Indeed,” his wife says. She moves closer and leans in to kiss her son’s head.

“He’s so cute,” she marvels.

Her husband laughs quietly.

“Yes, he is.”


End file.
